


Song of the Sea

by chaos_ineffable



Series: Good Omens 30th Anniversary [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Good Omens 30th Anniversary, M/M, Slight Suicide Ideation, Temporary Amnesia, it's not really that but it looks like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_ineffable/pseuds/chaos_ineffable
Summary: The next night, after the sun has gone down and the stars are shining, he finds himself at the shore. The sea laps at his toes, turning them blue. He doesn’t move away. He doesn’t step further in. He just stands there and watches the water rise and recede.“I told you not to come back.” Aziraphale appears beside him. He’s still shirtless, still pale, still beautiful.Crowley didn’t hear him approach but he doesn’t jump. He is numb to the world here, in this space between his old life and something that might be better. “I couldn’t stay away."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens 30th Anniversary [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729684
Comments: 9
Kudos: 94





	Song of the Sea

**Author's Note:**

> I rewatched The Song of the Sea and this happened. It wanted to be something much bigger than this but I don't have the time for that kind of commitment.
> 
> The prompt is 'Alternate Universe'.

Waves lap at the shore. They brush against olive skin, sending goosebumps over a thin chest and lanky arms. Crowley lies on his back, face turned towards the stars, eyes closed tight. He gets lost in the chill of the water. The numbness that has begun to spread through his fingers and toes. The icy pain that erupts every time a fresh wave washes over him. His hair floats around his head, framing it in a circle of fire. 

He never wants to go back to shore and if he gets his way, he never will.

He rests on the peaceful sea and waits for it to take him. It has been calling to him for so long and he has denied it over and over again. But not anymore. Tonight, he will give the sea what it yearns for and he will not regret it.

“Oh, hello!”

Crowley’s eyes snap open. There’s a man swimming beside him. He is pale from his hair to his shirtless chest. Only his eyes seem to have any color. They are sky blue and so bright; Crowley almost thinks they glow in the dark.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” The man asks, swimming around Crowley now. He moves through the water like he’s done it his whole life, graceful and without a splash.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Crawley drawls. He’s not about to tell this stranger about the call he’s heard from the sea since he was a child. He’s been ridiculed enough for it.

His response catches the man off guard and he flounders for a moment, his head of white curls disappearing under the waves. He pops back up a moment later with a laugh. “I suppose you could. Perhaps we should leave that question for another day. Do you want some help back to shore?”

Crowley grimaces. “Will you leave me alone if I say no?”

The man smiles but there’s a hard edge to it. “I’m afraid not.”

“Then it doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice.”

The man winces but begins herding Crowley back to shore. “I’m Aziraphale, by the way.”

It’s clear Aziraphale is waiting for Crowley to share his own name. He decides to keep it to himself out of sheer spite if nothing else. 

They don’t say anything for the several minutes it takes to swim back to shore. They continue to not say anything as they both stand on the beach. Aziraphale looks like he’s about to start a conversation so Crowley turns around and walks away, not even bothering to wave goodbye.

He stomps home, crawls into his cold bed, and pretends to sleep. The sea whispers to him for the rest of the night. He listens to its sweet song and promises to go back the next night. 

\---

Aziraphale is already on the beach when he arrives. He’s just sitting, staring up at the moon with a wistful look on his face. 

Crowley stops several meters away and glares at the back of his head.

“The sky is beautiful tonight,” Aziraphale says. He doesn’t move and Crowley assumes he’s talking to himself until he asks, “Do you ever wish the stars shined all the time?”

Crowley doesn’t know how to respond. He’s still irked at the man for ruining his plans the night before so he ignores the question and starts walking further down the beach. Once he’s far enough away, he’ll wade in and let the sea have him.

A hand grasping his wrist stops him. “Don’t fall for the sea’s tricks. She’s never as sweet as she wants you to think.”

Crowley whirls around with a snarl, ripping his wrist from the other man’s grip. “What do you know about the sea? And what do you know about me? Just leave me alone!” He stomps away, tired of this new man and his old judgments.

“I know you’re lonely. I know you’re searching for something that isn’t real. I know you think the sea can give you what you want. But I also know that the sea is cruel and merciless. She will only take everything you have and give you nothing in return.” His voice is quiet and sure. 

For some reason, Crowley believes him. He stops and all the fight leaves him. He droops and realizes he’s crying only after his tears have fallen into the sand. “Then what should I do?”

Aziraphale is behind him now. He places a comforting hand on his shoulder and whispers, “Go home. Live your life. Don’t come back here.”

Crowley doesn’t have it in him to argue. He shuffles home and falls into his bed. The sea sings and he plugs his ears so he doesn’t have to hear it.

\---

He can’t stay away. The next night, after the sun has gone down and the stars are shining, he finds himself at the shore. The sea laps at his toes, turning them blue. He doesn’t move away. He doesn’t step further in. He just stands there and watches the water rise and recede.

“I told you not to come back.” Aziraphale appears beside him. He’s still shirtless, still pale, still beautiful.

Crowley didn’t hear him approach but he doesn’t jump. He is numb to the world here, in this space between his old life and something that might be better. “I couldn’t stay away. The sea…it calls to me. It wants me to become part of it. I’m tired of refusing it what it wants.”

They are quiet for a while. Then Crowley clears his throat. “My name is Crowley, by the way. Figured I’d tell you since it won’t matter after tonight.”

Aziraphale sucks in a sharp breath. “Why is that?”

“I’m either wading in and never coming out or I’m moving away. Somewhere I can’t hear the sea.”

Aziraphale bounces on his toes. His lips are pursed, his eyebrows scrunched. His eyes are just as bright as they were that first night. “What if I gave you a way you could stay here but stop hearing that call?”

“I suppose it would be stupid of me not to inquire further.” Crowley doubts the man has anything of the like but it can’t hurt to listen. He has all the time in the world.

“Marry me.”

That earns a pause. Crowley turns to him, eyebrows raised to his hairline. “I’m sorry?”

“Marry me and the sea will leave you alone. You won’t have to move away.”

Crowley shakes his head and takes a few steps away from the man. “How do those things correlate? Explain that to me.”

Aziraphale looks pained. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I can promise to be a good, faithful husband. I can promise that we’ll be happy. I can even promise children if you want them.”

“But you can’t explain why marrying you will shut the sea up.” Crowley is becoming more and more convinced that he’s run into a loon that wanders the beach at night. “You’re joking.”

“Listen, Crowley,” Aziraphale sighs and looks at him, those blue eyes wide and desperate. “It’s hard to explain. There are parts of your soul that call out to,” he hesitates for a moment as if struggling with a word, “people like me. Yours is so loud, I can’t help but listen. I think we could be happy together if you wanted to try.”

Crowley looks out at the sea again and considers the idea. There’s something about the way Aziraphale talks that makes it all seem plausible; like marriage to a man he just met three days ago could really make him happy. He shakes his head and turns away. “I need to think.”

Aziraphale doesn’t try to stop him. Once he’s home, he spends the rest of the night pacing his room. The sea’s call is a murmur in the back of his mind.

\---

He doesn’t go back for a week. He doesn’t dare leave his room, in case his legs carry him to the sea before he can tell them to stop. He thinks about Aziraphale, about the way the moonlight glows on his pale skin, the way the stars reflect in his ocean-blue eyes. He considers his offer; leave behind everything he knows or marry a man he barely knows at all. The choice should be obvious. He should be happy to leave this little seaside village. There’s never been anything for him here and everyone knows it.

The thought of leaving the sea, of leaving Aziraphale, hurts. A deep pain that settles in his gut and tears at his insides, leaves him raw and empty and yearning. The idea of marrying Aziraphale feels right and that terrifies him even more. What has his life become that marrying a stranger is his best option?

Eventually, he can’t stay away any longer. He makes his way to the beach and sits on the sand, far enough from the water that it won’t touch him. He waits for Aziraphale. He sits for hours, watches the moon make its slow progression through the sky, listens to the rhythm of the waves.

Aziraphale doesn’t come.

He tells himself he has no reason to be sad. He should be happy. Now he can leave with no regrets and be rid of the infernal song that has plagued him all his life.

There is a hollowness in his gut that whispers the truth of his disappointment.

He stands and brushes sand from his trousers. He should get some rest. He’ll have to start packing in the morning.

Something catches his eye from the water, shimmering in the moonlight. He can see it moving, can make out a tail of silver scales if he looks hard enough. It’s beautiful as he watches it. A writhing, glowing mass of scales in the empty waters. He has to be closer to it. He can’t explain why but the need is strong and he doesn’t have the willpower to ignore it.

He wades into the water, moving with the push and pull of the waves. Somehow, he knows the creature will stay until he gets there. 

The water is up to his chest now, the waves almost knocking him over as he tiptoes closer to the creature. He pushes off the soft bottom and begins to swim, doing his best to keep his head above the water. Waves crash over him, wetting his hair and making him splutter. He doesn’t stop until he’s beside the creature, only then does he let his body rest.

He watches the creature curl around itself, trying to catch a glimpse of its head. But all he sees is the long, silver tail as it twists through the water. He reaches out a hand and grazes fingers along scales, his breath hitching at the contact. 

The creature freezes. Then it unfurls in a flurry of motion, sending waves that splash over Crowley’s head and push him several meters away. He swims back as fast as he can. His heartbeat pounds in his chest, loud enough he’s sure it reverberates through the water. He holds his breath and meets the bright blue eyes of the creature.

“Crowley? What are you doing out here?” Aziraphale asks. He sounds nervous.

Crowley stares at him. He almost looks the same, but his teeth and nails are sharper. His eyes are bigger and somehow bluer. Scales cover most of his abdomen, petering away to flesh just below his nipples. He’s beautiful and Crowley can’t look away.

“Oh, dear. You weren’t supposed to see me like this until after… Well, until after we were married.” Aziraphale looks wretched. He reaches out a clawed hand and cups Crowley’s cheek. “Are you alright, my dear.”

Crowley nods dumbly. He doesn’t think he is capable of speech at the moment.

Aziraphale doesn’t look reassured. “Let’s get you back to shore and we can talk. Come along.”

Before Crowley can be disappointed that he’ll have to stop looking at Aziraphale, he’s swept into powerful arms. With the help of Aziraphale’s strong tail, they’re on the beach in no time. Aziraphale deposits Crowley on the sand and settles beside him, his tail disappearing into the water.

“I’m sure you have questions. I will do my best to give you answers.”

Crowley gapes at him. “I- um, yeah, I guess I do. I just- ngk.” He forces his gaze away from Aziraphale’s tail and looks down at his hands clenched in the sand. “What are you, exactly?” 

“Yes, of course,” Aziraphale laughs softly but there’s no humor in it. “I suppose you would call me a siren. Though humans got quite a lot wrong about my kind. We’re not nearly as bloodthirsty as the legends suggest.”

Crowley takes a moment to process that. He gestures to Aziraphale’s tail, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground. “You had legs before. What happened to them?”

“Ah. That one’s a bit complicated. I can change, switch my tail for a pair of legs whenever I wish, but there’s only so long I can hold it. Every time I change, I have to spend a few days in this form.” He flicks his tail, muscles rippling all the way through it with the small movement.

Crowley sighs and falls into the sand, spreading his arms and legs and staring at the stars. Water laps at his toes. “Why do you want to marry me?”

Aziraphale’s fidgeting gets worse. “Oh, would you look at the time? I believe it’s best if you return home, my dear. You need your rest.”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley growls, “Why do you want to marry me? I can’t be the only lonely sod in this godforsaken town.”

Aziraphale makes a small sound in the back of his throat, almost a whine. “I can’t answer that.”

“Fuck you can’t. I’m not an idiot. I know there’s more to you then a tail. Answer me or I’m gone.”

Aziraphale shakes his head. “I can’t tell you, Crowley. I’m sorry.”

Crowley sneers and pushes himself to his feet. “Nice meeting you, Aziraphale. Hope you have a good life.”

He hears Aziraphale call to him but he doesn’t turn around.

\---

It takes him two days to pack everything. He spends most of that time fighting back tears. The rest is spent tossing things into boxes. 

He can’t explain why he’s upset that Aziraphale didn’t answer his question. It felt so important at the moment, like the final piece Crowley needed to convince himself marriage was a good idea. Now, he feels like a child throwing a tantrum.

He leans against one of the boxes in his front room with a heavy sigh. There’s a part of him that wants to go back, wants to find Aziraphale, and apologize for storming off. Wants to say yes and live the rest of their lives happy and together.

But he can’t marry someone he’s talked to four times just because it feels _right._ That decision has stupid written all over it. He drags a hand down his face and sighs. 

There’s a knock at the door.

He stares at it in confusion. There’s no reason for anyone to be visiting him. He’s not liked by most of the townspeople and the few that do tolerate him avoid him when they can. He’s tempted to ignore it, wave it off as a wrong address, and go about his day.

There’s another knock, more urgent than the last. 

He grumbles and makes his way to the door. “What do you want?”

Aziraphale stands on his doorstep. There’s a large chest sitting at his feet, ornate swirls decorating the dark wood. He smiles and gives an awkward, little wave. “Is that how you greet all your guests?”

Crowley leans against the door frame, blocking Aziraphale from seeing into his home. “Don’t get many guests. What are you doing here?”

Aziraphale sighs and folds his hands over his round stomach. He’s found himself a shirt, a light blue button-down that fits him just right. His pants are the same as always, dark and unremarkable. “You were right. You do deserve an explanation for everything. It was selfish of me to refuse you that. If you’ll let me, I’m happy to explain everything now.”

Crowley stares down at the chest. There’s something important in there, he can feel it. He doesn’t bother asking what’s inside. He doubts Aziraphale will tell him until he’s ready. He nods stiffly and moves aside so Aziraphale can haul the chest in. He picks it up like it weighs nothing, despite it being rather large and made of what looks to be oak. 

Neither of them comments on the boxes that litter the house. Aziraphale looks displeased to see them but he simply pushes a few aside to make room for the chest. “Do you know about the selkie?” He asks, kneeling down and pulling a simple key out of his pocket. “They are beautiful creatures. Seals with the ability to shed their skin and turn into humans. The sea calls to them when they are in their human form and many are unable to stay that way for long. When the song of the sea becomes too much, they put on their coats of fur and return to where they belong.” 

The sound of the chest unlocking is thunderous to Crowley’s ears. He watches, body tense, and heart pounding in his ears, as Aziraphale opens it. He doesn’t dare look inside. Can’t bring himself to see the thing Aziraphale has brought him. He swallows past the knot in his throat and croaks, “What happens if a selkie loses their coat?”

Aziraphale’s eyes are apologetic and full of sympathy. “They lose their memories and spend the rest of their lives yearning for the sea.”

Crowley knows what is in the chest. He itches to reach in and grab it, to run his fingers over the smooth fur. To wrap it around himself and disappear in its warmth. He stumbles back, bumping against boxes until his knees hit the edge of a particularly large box and he lands on top of it. He doesn’t want to look inside the chest. Doesn’t want to accept what it would mean if he’s right about its contents.He meets Aziraphale’s blue eyes and rasps, “Why now?”

“We were so happy before everything happened.” Aziraphale reaches a hand into the chest. Crowley tenses but the siren only strokes what is inside. His voice is wet when he continues, “A siren and a selkie being together was unheard of. Our species despise each other, always have. But we were different. We never quite fit in with the rest of them and our relationship was no different. We would spend hours away from our groups just to be together. It was supposed to be a secret but neither of us was very good at staying hidden. We were too in love for that.” He laughs quietly and tears shimmer in his eyes. 

Crowley fights to keep back his own tears. He clenches trembling fingers around the edges of the box he’s sitting on and forces himself to keep listening.

“When they found us out,” Aziraphale’s voice breaks over the words, “they separated us and devised punishments to ensure we stayed apart. My kind abandoned me. Left me to fend for myself in monster-infested waters. And yours,” he stops and takes a breath. He wipes his eyes and finally looks at Crowley. “Your kind took your coat and banished you to shore. They locked your coat away and hid it where they thought no one would ever find it.”

“But you did.” It’s not a question. It’s a breathless statement that barely makes it past his lips. 

Aziraphale stands and steps away from the chest. “It’s your decision, Crowley. I won’t force you to make it now. I’m willing to wait however long you need.” It’s obvious there is so much more he wants to say but he straightens his shoulders and gives a formal nod. “I hope you make the choice that makes you happy.” 

He turns to leave. Crowley surges forward. “Wait!”

Aziraphale pauses, posture stiff. He doesn’t turn around.

“Did you love me? Did you really love me?” The question hurts to ask but he needs to know.

A sound halfway between a sob and a laugh erupts from Aziraphale’s throat. “I still do, my dear. More than you’ll ever know.”

Before Crowley can say anything else, can even think of a way to respond, Aziraphale is gone.

\---

It takes him nearly two hours to look in the chest. At the bottom, folded neatly, is a bundle of grey-brown fur. He brushes his fingers through it and gently lifts it. It is both heavier and lighter than he expected. His hands thrum where he touches it and he is filled with the sudden need to put it on. 

He doesn’t give himself time to think. He unfurls it and wraps it around his shoulders, his waist, his thighs, his ankles. It is a perfect fit and he never wants to take it off. 

He can feel the weight of the hood on his back and he aches to pull it over his head, to disappear completely in the sealskin. He hesitates. Can he really give up his whole life to live in the sea with a siren?

He looks around him, at the boxes full of things he doesn’t need and cares about even less. At the walls of the house he never had any attachment too. He thinks about the town and its people, who he has never been a part of. 

And he realizes he has never needed anything _but_ the sea and the beautiful siren waiting for him there.

He takes hold of the hood and flips it over his head. The sealskin tightens around him, melding to his body until he’s sure it’s just as much his skin as his human flesh. It is a comforting weight and he lets himself revel in it.

The memories return in a slow, steady stream.

Playing in the kelp as a pup. The first time he removed his coat and wobbled his way onto shore. The simple joy of swimming as fast as possible, after a fish or away from predators or just for the fun of it. Meeting Aziraphale.

That one takes him a moment to process. He remembers the distrust and hatred that they shared for each other at the beginning. The way they would slink around each other every time they crossed paths. How much fun it was.

He started searching for Aziraphale, running into him ‘accidentally’ and egging the siren on until he would leave in a huffy fit. Their relationship grew from there. 

Until they were spending more time with each other than with their separate groups. Until they were so deep in love that it would be impossible to ever climb out again.

The memory of their marriage is the last one before their groups tear them apart. He tears off the hood before Aziraphale’s screams and the pain of forcefully being ripped from his skin can burrow into his mind.

He’s wasted so much time wallowing in indecision. He runs out the door, going as fast as his legs will take him to the beach. His love for Aziraphale pounds through him, desperate and loud and so, so much. 

“Aziraphale!” He screams, splashing into the water. He pulls the hood over his head and dives in. The transformation is seamless and he barely notices it happening at all. He swims towards a shimmering shape he can just see in the distance. His tail propels him forward, faster than he’s ever gone before.

He slams into Aziraphale, doing his best to hug the siren without arms. 

Aziraphale startles and stares at Crowley in shock. Then his face lights up, his tail thrashing happily. He scoops Crowley into his arms and swims to the surface, his giddy laughter filling the air. “Crowley, my dearest, do you remember?”

Crowley flicks back his hood and wraps his arms and legs around Aziraphale. He leans in, presses his forehead against Aziraphale’s. “Yes. I remember everything. I love you so much.”

The words fall from his lips like they’re second nature to him and he laughs with the pure joy of it all. 

Aziraphale bundles him closer and kisses the tip of his nose. “I love you too, my darling boy. Thank you for coming back to me.”

Crowley pulls away, just far enough to see Aziraphale’s eyes. “Can we still get married? I know we already did and everything,” He cups Aziraphale’s cheek, stroking a thumb over the corner of soft lips. “But I want to make sure it was real. That I didn’t imagine it.”

Aziraphale smiles softly and pulls Crowley back in. “Of course.” He nuzzles into Crowley’s hair and hums happily. “I’d marry you a thousand times if it’d make you happy, love.”

Eventually, they move to the shore so they can better wrap around each other. The waves reach for them where they lay but they are just out of reach. The sea whispers to the lovers one more time before it goes silent, satisfied at last.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!


End file.
